Page 5 of The Billionaire and the Nanny

Another absurd thought hits me. I imagine Miss Wallach—Penelope—holding onto her rounded baby bump, smiling in the sunlight.

Why I think of her this way, why I imagine mine as the seed that joined hers to form the life growing inside of her, I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, and I don’t want images like this to torture me. I know it’s just science, hormones, testosterone, pheromones fucking with my brain, but I won’t continue to indulge these ridiculous thoughts and fantasies.

My sister became a parent, and look what happened—she’s gone and now I’m left cleaning up themess.

My responsibilities are to myself. If I die, I don’t burden anyone. My death would cause the happiness of many, and Townsend Industries would still grow without me thanks to my well-oiled machine. And part of keeping that machine running smoothly means never getting involved with employees.

“Sir, if I may sayso…”

“You may not,” I cut her off. “And if you continue to question my authority, you won’t last long here, Miss Wallach, I assure you. Your job is to care for Lilly Belle according to my instructions. Finally, and I cannot stress this rule enough…you will keep your door locked at night.”

“Why?” Wide, green eyes search myface.

“That’s a question, Miss Wallach.” As difficult as she’s being, I can tell she’s not doing it on purpose. She’s just not used to anyone telling her what to do. Probably the oldest sibling in her family, which would explain her stellar baby-whispering skills.

As if suddenly remembering that she’s the one who needs the money, she relents and sighs. “I’m sorry. I’ll do that. I’ll…keep my door locked at night.” I see the wheels in her head turning, wondering why the bizarre request, but it’s not rocket science—I’m a man; she’s a woman, an intensely hot one, though she doesn’t seem to knowit.

Which is worse.

And entirely more challenging.

She drops a tiny kiss onto the baby’s forehead. No other nanny has treated this baby with such affection. Miss Wallach is perfect for this child, but she can’t know that. Because soon, the baby will be leaving for an adoption agency, and Miss Wallach’s services will not be required afterthat.

“Baby food and formula are in the kitchen, your room is to my left, no decorating this room, keep music and television volume to a minimum. Excellent work will earn you a bonus at the end of every week. As long as you follow my rules, you’ll befine.”

She waits a moment before nodding. “Do you mind if I put up just a few images, something for Lilly Belle to lookat?”

“I saidno.”

“Fine.” She retracts indignantly.

“Good. Glad you understand.” I step out of the room and fight the urge to look at Miss Wallach holding the baby in her arms before closing the door. They go perfectly together, it’s hard to ignore. She probably shouldn’t get attached, but then again, nannies should know that by nature. I close the door and head down the hallway, descending the stairs and stopping when I hear the voice coming from the video baby monitor.

“We won’t listen to that mean ol’ uncle of yours, will we, Lilly Belle? No, we won’t. He’s a dummy head who doesn’t know the first thing about babies, but I do. And I’m here to make sure you havefun.”

I won’t go up there and reprimand her. She’s allowed to say whatever she wants in private, and I have to get to work anyway. Sighing, I grab my keys off the kitchen hook. Finally, I can get out ofhere.

But for the first time ever, I don’t want to go towork.

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